


A Companionable Reunion

by TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel



Category: Doctor Who (2005), Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Community: intoabar, Companions, Crossover, Gen, Reunions, dinosaurs are awesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-10
Updated: 2013-06-10
Packaged: 2017-12-14 12:43:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/836999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel/pseuds/TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor walks into a pub, and meets John Watson.</p><p>(Or: it turns out that Sherlock wasn't the first madman in a long coat that John spent time running after, which explains a lot, really.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Companionable Reunion

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 'Into A Bar' ficathon!

It was the sort of nice little English pub that looked like it might have been there for generations. It had an oddly homey, friendly look to it, and although the Doctor hadn’t been planning anything of the sort until just now, he decided that it might be nice to get a drink.

Just one, nothing excessive… and pubs were a wonderful place to meet people, the Doctor knew, he’d met some brilliant people in pubs. Or being thrown out of pubs, that happened a lot, too. Maybe he could get one of those colourful drinks with the little umbrellas in them? He liked those. Admittedly this particular pub didn’t look like the kind of place that did drinks with umbrellas, but you never knew.

The Doctor wandered in, glancing around appreciatively at the old-fashioned aesthetic. He wandered up to the bar, his eyes roving over the liqueurs and spirits on the shelves behind it.

He took a seat, and glanced at the man next to him, who was sitting in quiet contemplation over a pint. He frowned. The man had a familiar look to him, something the Doctor couldn’t quite place.

“I’m sorry,” the Doctor asked amiably, leaning towards him with a friendly smile, “this might sound like an odd question, but have we met? Only you seem familiar.”

The man glanced up at the Doctor’s question, blinking, and the Doctor suddenly knew _exactly_ who he was.

He was about thirty years older than the last time the Doctor had seen him, and quite a bit taller, and had sort of sagged a bit… but anyway, it was definitely _him_.

“John!” the Doctor said in delight. “John Watson! Oh, look at you! Last time I saw you, you were just a little tyke, and now here you are, all grown up! Oh, _brilliant!_ ” He paused a second, when no response was forthcoming. “Well, go on, aren’t you going to say hello, or something?”

John stared at him.

“I thought I’d imagined you.”

“Nonsense,” said the Doctor, “who could possibly imagine _me?_ ”

John stared hard at him.

“True, I suppose,” he said, and then: “Oh God, suddenly my friendship with Sherlock takes on a whole new meaning.”

The Doctor lit up like a Christmas tree at the mention of Sherlock.

“Sherlock Holmes! Right, so you’ve finally met him, then? Brilliant man, isn’t he? Genius. Could do with some better manners, though.”

This actually made John crack a grin, and the Doctor congratulated himself on breaking through John’s stunned shock.

“Yeah, he can be a bit… difficult,” John agreed. “God, he’s a nightmare sometimes, but – like you said, _brilliant._ There’s no one else like him.” John considered this. “Well, no, you’re a bit like him, and I can’t believe I never thought about that before. The similarities are sort of disturbing, actually.”

“Wellll, you were a kid,” the Doctor said tolerantly. “You’d be surprised what kids are capable of forgetting. The world’s still new enough to them that oddness doesn’t stand out the same way it does for adults. Of course, that also means they’re less likely to ignore something just because it doesn’t fit into their worldview.”

“So… all those weird adventures were real, then?” John asked warily, clearly doubting his own memory.

The Doctor nodded with enthusiasm.

“Absolutely!”

“Even the one with the dinosaur with the, you know, the feathers?” John persisted.

The Doctor made a face.

“You snuck an egg on board the TARDIS, don’t think I haven’t forgotten that,” he said darkly. “And then it _hatched_. I couldn’t work out what was going on, all the chewed wires, the weird scratches on the walls, until I found it eating a pair of my leather boots - I had a nice job trying to catch it and release it back where it belonged, thanks for that.”

John grinned, his expression a strange mingling of mortification and unrepentant amusement.

“Yeah, well, a dinosaur egg,” he retorted. “What ten year old could resist?” His smile faded, and he shook his head. “Blimey. I haven’t thought about any of that in years. Put it aside, got on with life. Grew up. Became a doctor, joined the army… then I got shot in Afghanistan.”

“And now here you are, running around with Sherlock Holmes,” said the Doctor quietly, his eyes warm and understanding.

John let out a long exhale.

“Yeah,” he agreed, like he couldn’t believe his luck.

“Well, good for you.” The Doctor’s bright smile suddenly dawned. “Doctor Watson. How about a trip for old times’ sake? What do you say?”

John hesitated.

“I really shouldn’t.”

“Go on,” the Doctor cajoled. “Just one trip and then I’ll bring you back, promise.”

John gave in.

“Alright, fine, just one. But make sure you bring me straight back, I remember your driving.”

The Doctor gave him a look that was both offended and indignant.

“Excuse me, but I am a _fantastic_ driver, thank you very much,” he complained.

John shook his head, smiling.

“God help me,” he said, but he left with the Doctor without another protest.


End file.
